


They'll Find You Yet

by poisontaster



Series: Sateda Dean [8]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-04
Updated: 2008-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5229890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><i> Remember when you ran away</i><br/><i>and I got on my knees and begged you not to leave</i><br/><i>because I'd go berserk?</i><br/><i>Well.</i><br/><i>You left me anyhow and then the days got worse and worse</i><br/><i>and now you see I've gone</i><br/><i>completely out of my mind.  And.</i><br/>"They're Coming to Take Me Away" by Napoleon XIV</p>
    </blockquote>





	They'll Find You Yet

**Author's Note:**

> _Remember when you ran away_  
>  _and I got on my knees and begged you not to leave_  
>  _because I'd go berserk?_  
>  _Well._  
>  _You left me anyhow and then the days got worse and worse_  
>  _and now you see I've gone_  
>  _completely out of my mind. And._  
>  "They're Coming to Take Me Away" by Napoleon XIV

There's a series of laboratories—or, that's what Rodney tells him they were—on the east edge of the city, just above the water line. They're too far from the warm core that the Lanteans have taken for their own and structurally unsound, damaged over and over again in Atlantis's many adventures and long life.

This is where Ronon finds Dean.

He thinks Dean is sleeping, curled small in the cubbyhole under the extruded desk, the heavy crown of his dreads and his hunched arms hiding his face too much for Ronon to tell otherwise. But when Ronon's boot toe scuffs in the dust and debris, Dean looks up, his face powdered in more of the same dust and his eyes glaring red-rimmed and glass-green through it.

"Why did you bring me here?" Dean asks, his voice no louder and no more inflected than the scritch of Ronon's shoes on the floor.

Ronon sighs, squats down, balancing his arms on his knees. "He's fine. Just needs some stitches."

Dean shakes his head. "I shouldn't be here. You shouldn't 've brought me here."

"Dean." It's not easy now, talking to Dean. He's not that man anymore, young and cod-proud and so unbelievably arrogant. He spent seven years barely hearing the sound of his own voice. And he was never any good at…this. "You think it was any better for me, at first?"

"Samuel says…" All at once, Dean pinches his mouth shut, gaze cutting away from Ronon's almost angrily. He jerks and then starts pushing out from under the desk, forcing Ronon back. Dean crouches too, all bunched muscle and edgy, wary nervousness. He's Ronon two years ago and it's something of a shock to Ronon to realize how far he's come from this. The Lanteans still look at him, still treat him like something half-wild and feral and Ronon realizes he likes that; likes that his edges have not been rubbed away into complacency because he was complacent once and it cost him a whole world. At the same time, he's not this anymore, not feral like Dean is, apt to bite even a friend's hand as much as an enemy.

"You know why I brought you here," Ronon says finally, sounding angry himself.

Dean shakes his head again. His mouth varies between a taut line and an uneven tremble. Ronon remembers that too, not knowing what emotion was going to come up in the lottery, what would come spilling out, be it more rage, tears, or simply animal howls that won't stop once they're started.

_If you would tame a dog, you can't be afraid of getting bitten._

Who told him that? Ronon doesn't remember anymore and the inability to remember makes him panic, deep under his skin, where it won't show. Sateda is gone and there's only a handful of people left in the world to remember.

He remembers finding Dean: _I need…you have to remember. I need you to remember him for me—Samuel. Remember him for me._

Ronon reaches for Dean when he sees Dean isn't expecting it, jerking him forward and off balance, spinning him around. He pulls Dean against his body, hooking one arm around Dean's throat and the other spread over Dean's belly. No boyish softness there now. Not much softness in either of them any more.

Dean jerks once, violently, like he's going to tear away. But when Ronon growls, Dean stills, panting fast and frantic, still wanting escape even if he won't fight Ronon for it. Ronon feels it running through Dean like current and he knows he should've done this before—touched Dean. Not just to ground Dean, not just for simple human contact, but so _they_ touch, him and Dean.

He'd just been too afraid of getting bitten.

"You know why I brought you here," he insists again, mouth up against Dean's ear, arms tightening. "You know. You know, Dean. You know."

Dean makes a sound, keening and wild, that tears up from way down deep, starting soft and savage and turning into a scream like that of a jungle cat. He's fighting now. Not to get away, but just to fight. Because that's what they do, what they've done since Sateda fell. Dean's head smashes into Ronon's nose—not hard enough to break it, but hard enough that he feels blood run hot over his lips and down his chin. Ronon doesn't let go. He's careful not to strangle Dean, but he doesn't let go, ears ringing, letting Dean scream, letting him howl.

There's no one but Ronon near enough to hear anyway.


End file.
